


Twisted Ideals

by Nexus



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 10:36:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexus/pseuds/Nexus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After stumbling across a land mine on his way to evacuate Cybertron with the rest of the Autobots, Switchblade is accidentally left behind. The choices he makes to survive lead him down a path shrouded in shadows and malice, twisting the once perfect Autobot into something much colder and darker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

On a dying planet, among the rubble of a ruined city and thousands of dead; a single blue optic flickered into life. It's owner slowly lifted his head, coughing weakly and glowing blue droplets of energon pattered onto the blackened ground. As bone dry air cycled through partially clogged intake vents a rattling wheeze pierced the dead silence of the battlefield. Once tall and proud spires that pierced the sky were now broken and shattered, their remains strewn about the streets below, only to be used for cover by snipers or clever soldiers. The Autobot glanced about with his one working optic anxiously, coughing a bit more and slowly dragging his arms under his torso.. or he tried, he grimaced as his right arm failed to respond, and he looked over at the limb; only to find that the reason it wasn't responding was because it wasn't even there.  
“Oh Primus..” he croaked, coolant starting to leak from his left optic as the pain hit. He quickly discovered his legs were in the same state, his right was no longer there, his leg was gone just above his knee. His wounds had mostly been cauterized at least, so he hadn't leaked to death yet. It was mostly his arm wound that was causing problems, and his face, he could feel the gelled energon smeared across the right side of it, mostly coming from his right optic.. which he gathered from what he saw happened to his arm and legs, wouldn't be coming online any time soon, if ever.  
The Autobot's silver armor was scratched and blackened from energon blasts and smoke, hand to hand fighting and shrapnel. He still managed to roll over slowly, groaning in pain as he scooted backwards slightly and lean against a fallen section of metal; assuming to be once part of a building or bridge. It didn't matter anymore did it? It was all just rubble now, places to hide or take cover, to use to your advantage in order to survive. The mangled Cybertronion reached up shakily with his remaining limb, manually activating his comm link and broadcasting on all Autobot channels he knew  
“Hello? Designation: Switchblade requesting evacuation- in need of urgent medical attention”  
He listened, sitting slumped against the rubble and waiting, for anyone.. anyone at all to respond.

No answer.  
Only static greeted the battered Autobot.

~ ~ ~

Switchblade broadcasted again, and again, and again; In denial that he had been left behind, alone on a dead planet with only the bodies of friends and enemies to keep him company. He was at a loss of what to do, and there wasn't much he COULD do with just his left arm. The silver Autobot cycled air through his vents, looking up at the ruddy orange sky, thick with smoke from electrical fires or burning energon stores.  
He remembered when the sky used to be a beautiful lavender, blue or green. It changed as their planet orbited around it's sun, it was the closest thing Cybertron had to seasons really; now the sky was just as dead-looking as the rest of the world, Switchblade missed the sky the way it used to be. He shook his head a bit, shuttering his optic a few times and coughing a bit more, he told himself he was in shock, why else would he be thinking about the sky, of all things. Switchblade grunted, letting his head fall back and clang against the rubble he leaned against, staring at a crumbled down building across the street.. and his gaze slowly sliding down to the crater in the ground where the land mine had been.

The land mine. He couldn't believe he'd stepped on it, but then again, he and the rest of his team had been making with all haste towards their home base located in the heart of Iacon; to Evacuate. Decepticons had breached the city, while the Autobots had been evacuating Cybertron over the past few solar cycles due to the energon shortage, and in hopes that Cybertron could heal if they took their fighting elsewhere.. It didn't work Switchblade assumed. He felt it in his spark, their home no longer felt alive. He suddenly realized how tired he was, and he pulled up his energon readings, his spark sank a bit as he saw they were dipping towards the low fifty percent range. If his readings went below twenty five percent.. he'd fall into stasis lock, from there his internal systems would start shutting down to try and conserve energy; but without help he would offline. Permanently. Switchblade shivered a bit and he thought about his options.. he could sit here, and wait till he starved to death.. Or..  
The young Autobot looked down the street to his right, where he had noticed a few bright splashes of color. Those splashes of color were the bodies of other Cybertronians, he didn't know what faction they were, but did it matter? They were dead.. they didn't need their parts did they? He flinched and clenched his jaw, his conscience battling with his raw need to survive. He sat there for several minutes, his processor went over the facts over and over again.. and each time came to the same conclusion.  
You need to survive. You don't want to die alone.

So Switchblade grimaced in pain and rolled onto his belly, he hated being reduced to crawl to survive, to say he was proud was stating the obvious. He'd been a rising star in Cybertron's racing world, an athlete that had been swiftly climbing through the leagues, race by race. Now, he was just another soldier, the vorns it had been since the civil war had started had dulled the memories of mechs and femmes alike; it was rare that he had been recognized later in the war. He doubted that anyone would even miss him if he died here. He'd show them. He'd show them all. He refused to die here. He'd fight to live.. he'd take parts from the fallen to make himself whole again.  
Switchblade was exhausted, disorientated and weak, but he still managed to drag and squirm his way across the blasted and rubble-strewn streets towards the bodies he'd spotted where he had sat against the rubble. Occasionally coming across cannon shells or splatters of gelled energon on the ground, shards of variously colored armor, he morbidly wondered if any of their owners were even alive anymore. Not that he found himself caring really, which kinda surprised him.. actually, no it didn't. H wanted to live, not worry about stupid chunks of armor laying on the street. He couldn't even use them, he needed limbs.. a right arm, a right leg, and the lower half of a left leg. Simple as that. He didn't need random piece of armor, oh no.. besides, it'd clash with his silver paint.  
“Why.. am I thinking..about clashing colors?..” he grunted to himself, grimly noting his continued decline of energon, now it was closer to fifty percent than it had been before. The leak coming from his severed arm was more serious than he thought. Switchblade dragged himself the last short distance to a purple mech, struggling to a sitting position besides the blasted body and looking over him critically “Not your lucky break huh?.. Well, you won't be needing this anymore” he drawled, not even asking why he was talking to a dead Decepticon. The mangled Autobot tensed his arm, forearm plating splitting and shifting apart; his spring loaded blade swinging out and locking into place with a loud click.  
He sat there, staring down at the lifeless shell of one his faction's numerous enemies; he then shrugged and plunged his plate into the body's right shoulder, twisting his arm and cutting through cables and wires, careful not to damage the joint and trying to make as clean of a cut as possible. It only took his razor-edged blade a few nanoclicks to sever the dead mech's arm, the lifeless limp flopping grotesquely onto the dust ground. Now for the fun part he thought grimly, shaking the congealed energon off his blade and swinging it back into place before transforming his hand into his rarely used mini welder. Being a racer, he had some medical knowledge, he often did his own repairs after races when he happened to injure himself. Switchblade snorted a bit as he thought 'upgrading to reattaching limbs are we?', shaking his head before grabbing his new arm and scooting back to lean against the side of a building, propping the arm against the wall beside him and reaching over to scoop up a few chunks of rubble to keep the limb upright and in postion while he connected wires and welded. He lined his shoulder up with the arm, grimacing a bit as he reached over and pulled out a main current wire. It was hard to see which wire was what, but with help from his internal systems he finally matched the correct wire and welded them together. Hooray, he was semi-attached now.  
Next he slowly but surly connected energon tubes and tension cables. He'd had trouble choking back his scream of pain as he connected the neural lines, slamming his head against the wall behind him and spitting every cuss he knew as the pain slowly ebbed away. After several moments of sitting against the wall with his optics squeezed shut he grimaced, slowly opened them and looked down at the dark purple arm he'd attached to himself. The Autobot set his mouth in a grim line and he tried wiggling his fingers, they twitched slightly at first, then they started to respond; stiff, but they responded. Switchblade cycled air through his vents loudly, a satisfied grin curving his scuffed and blackened features. He scanned his upper, right side of his chest, and his pleased smile increased a fraction when the report came back he wasn't leaking energon anymore.  
He was sure he wasn't going to join the Well of All Sparks yet, not today.  
He continued wiggling his fingers and rolling his wrist, getting energon circulating and working the kinks out of the stiffened joints. The Autobot looked just a short distance from where he was and spotted the body of a fellow racer, Switchblade remembered racing against him a couple of times; he'd been almost as quick as he had been, and was fun to talk do.. but now he was dead, and didn't need his legs anymore. Switchblade sighed and released his blade again.. time to go to work.

After he'd sawed off the other racer's legs Switchblade had set to work reattaching them to himself, he had a bit of trouble in attaching them due to the fact the blast from the land mine had cauterized the energon lines; he had to cut them open again and quickly seal them to the lines in his new legs. Once he had done so he started matching up neural lines and hydraulics, twisting and soldering wires together, he double checked he had everything connected before he cycled air again and popped the joint into place in his hip. Switchblade grunted and blinked away the coolant that welled in his optic, coughing a bit and shaking his head before slowly stretching the leg, it was a bit jerky and he knew he'd missed some of the neural lines but he wasn't pulling the leg off and redoing it. He needed to walk, not do gymnastics, when he got back to base he knew a medic would do the rest of the fine tuning.  
Attaching the left leg went off easier since rather than popping the joint into his hip, it simply had to pull out the pin in the leg's knee and slide the new limb onto his before replacing the pin. He was quite pleased that he had full arms and legs again, now to try walking. Switchblade glanced over at the red racer and he nodded in thanks, Racers always looked out for each other.  
The now silver, purple and red Autobot shakily pulled his legs under him, bracing his wheeled pedes under him and moving into a crouch. He hoped he'd calibrated the hydraulics right, otherwise he'd probably end up falling flat on his face due to his legs over-responding or the other way around. Using some rubble to help himself stand he slowly bent his legs in both places; racers had double jointed legs, and wheeled pedes, what they lacked in upper body strength they made up with their legs.  
Switchblade snorted a bit as he recalled a rather burly-looking constructicon had remarked he looked like a femme, and the racer had proceeded to kick him in the chest, the look on the mech's face when cracks had spider-webbed across his chest plate was priceless. The racer chuckled a bit and shakily took a step, legs wobbling and joints throbbing dully in pain. Switch ignored the pain, he set his gaze on the base located just a few blocks away.. 'a few blocks' never looked so long. 

His news legs took a bit to get used to, in addition to being mostly calibrated for a larger bot; they were longer than his old legs, and due to the fact his right leg's thigh was longer than his original one.. his right leg was a bit longer than his left; making him walk with a noticeable limp. Switchblade focused on the base in the distance, trying to ignore the pain and discomfort and instead think about the surprise on his friends' faces as he hobbled into the base, then telling them “Can't get rid of me THAT easily” Switch grinned a bit, he knew it'd be kinda funny. His friend, Longarm would probably pretend to be annoyed, maybe shake his head and give him his trademark look of disapproval; but then the massive mech would probably walk over and crush him in a hug. The battered mech hobbled across the pavilion he'd come to and limped towards the gate, pushing it open with a grunt and looking around. “Hey guys!.. Where is everyone? Hello?!” he called, coughing a bit and spitting out a glob of energon that had been stuck in his intake since he'd woken up. “Hello~” he hummed, limping to a door but one of his feet slipping out to the side randomly. Switchblade yelped and lurched forward, his other leg bending to try and prevent him from falling. He fell against the door however and it slammed open, Switchblade tumbling inside with a clatter “ouch..” he muttered, shuttering his optic slowly and lifting his head to look around.  
His energon ran cold as he saw that the base was completely empty, medical equipment was gone or lay discarded on the floor, energon cubes were missing from the stockpile they'd had against the back wall; fighter ships were missing from their docks.. and no one was there to greet him back, to help him up and bark at him for worrying them so much. He gave a choked sob as he rested his head on the cold floor, a single, pale blue tear trickling down his face before his optic winked out and he faded into stasis lock.  
He was alone. No one knew he was there, they'd abandoned him.

They'd left him to die.

~ ~ ~

A single, predatory yellow optic watched from the darkness between stacks of crates inside the Autobot base; it's owner had watched as a lone Autobot staggered in gracelessly and collapsed in the doorway. The large Decepticon watched with a sense of curiousity as the lithe mech looked around, half his face sheered off and bearing mis-matched limbs, the 'Con grinned internally, a bot that thought like a Decepticon.  
Most interesting.. A most fascinating subject..  
The tall, dark purple mech's shadow oozed across the floor as he emerged from his hiding place, the shadow crept across Switchblade's limp body. The Decepticon scientist crouched down and scooped the unconscious Autobot into his arms, turning and walking deeper into the Autobot base, darkness swallowing them up.


	2. Shock of his life

_Gunfire echoed through the streets of Iacon, flashes of red and blue lit up alleys and buildings, windows shattering and rubble sprawling across the ground below or burying unfortunate mechs or femmes that failed to get out of the way. A silver mech flitted through the smoke and carnage, followed by a taller and bulkier mech with gray and orange armor. The tall mech swung one of his arms, transforming his hand into a mace and smashing in a Vehicon's helm in, watching as it crumpled to the ground, still twitching slightly_

_“Hey Switch! That was number fourteen!” Longarm called, grinning and puffing out his chest a bit, but blinked as he noticed his partner poke his head out from a window about three stories up_

_“Yeah?.. well I just nailed number twenty-one, twenty-two, and twenty-three up here, so.. NYEH” snarked the racer and he stuck out his glossa before vanishing back inside. The ex-construction worker choked a bit and narrowed his optics_

_“Get back down here ya cheeky little glitch!” bellowed Longarm and he shook his fist, but paused and watched his partner take a flying leap out the window, flames billowing out after him a few nanoclicks later. The silver mech hit the ground, double-jointed legs bending and massive shock absorbers on them compressing and hissing softly before Switchblade dove into a roll and came smoothly up onto his feet. The silver racer then spun around and rose his arms into the air_

_“That was AWESOME!” hooted the racer, laughing hysterically and doubling over, high on increased voltage from the exertion. “Did you SEE that??” he asked, standing up and bouncing up and down on his wheeled pedes in front of Longarm, a crooked grin plastered to his facial plating. “Whew that was exhilarating” he huffed, putting his hands on his hips and laughing as Longarm stared at him incredulously._

_“You're fraggin' CRAZY, you know that? You're fragged in the head” the construction worker scoffed and the racer rolled his optics._

_“Yeah.. I know that, it makes this whole war thing tolerable ya know?” Switchblade drawled and he lifted one of his hands to inspect his finger tips. “Oh look, I chipped a finger..” the silver Autobot mused and he watched as his larger partner rolled his optics and took a few steps further down the street, ignoring Switchblade's “Oh, and I'm up to twenty-nine now”_

_From there Switchblade and Longarm continued to move farther out from base, they were tasked with keeping Decepticons at bay and preventing them from getting into their section of the city. They moved further from the base, Switchblade scouting ahead and stealthily taking out 'Cons as he saw fit; leading others back to Longarm to crush them into powder. Switchblade was currently perching on the top of a building, smiling crookedly and transforming his arm into his sleek energon cannon. He looked down the barrel at a Vehicon in the streets below, smiling faintly as he watched it look into a house with it's own cannon ready. The Vehicon didn't think to look up, only when it heard a whistle from above and across the street.. the last thing it saw was the flash of blue before the energon shot took off it's head._

_The racer grinned and raised a hand high, one finger extended, and he snickered as he heard an irritated snort from few buildings down. Just to rub it in, Switchblade reached up and activated his comm link_

_=BOOM. Head shot. That's number thirty=_

_=AGH, will you shut your fraggin' MOUTH already!= Longarm raged, earning a volley of laughter from the silver racer, hugging himself and giggling hysterically. He loved irritating Longarm, the reactions he got were priceless. He quickly set his attention back on his surroundings however, squinting slightly as he saw a pair of mechs, and a femme sprinting down a street towards where he and Longarm were stationed; being pursued by a whole squad of Vehicons. The silver Autobot cursed and stood up, comming Longarm_

_=Longarm, we have a problem- OH SLAG!= screeched Switchblade as he dove to the side from where he'd been standing, narrowly avoiding getting shot by a diving Eradicon. He looked up at the sky and gasped; the Nemesis was approaching Iacon, the sky around it thick with Eradicons. Switchblade felt his energon run cold and he slowly reached up to activate his comm link_

_=L-Longarm? Are you SEEING this?=  
_

_=Yeah.. I just got the order from Prime, we gotta roll, like NOW, back to base!= said Longarm urgently and Switchblade leapt from the buildings roof, sliding down the wall a ways before kicking off and plunging into the street below, diving into a roll and staggering as he tripped over a piece of rubble. He waited till he saw his partner stumble out of the building he'd been stationed in, waving at Switchblade before running in the direction of the base and after the other fleeing Autobots. The silver racer caught up to Longarm in a nanoclick, occasionally firing behind them to keep incoming Decepticons off their backs._

_The Autobots they'd seen turned out to be Cliffjumper and Bumblebee, accompanied by a blue femme he didn't recognize. “Havin' fun yet?” he called, firing at an Eradicon that flew past them, making it crash in the street and he watched as Longarm fired off his own cannon as they raced past it to finish it off._

_The blue femme snorted and rolled her optics, vaulting over a pile of rubble and firing at the Vehicons closing in on them as she landed on top. Bumblebee and Cliffjumper went over next, helped up by the femme with Longarm and Switchblade covering them. Switchblade patted Longarm's shoulder, motioning for him to go over and he glared at the taller mech as he opened his mouth to protest._

_“Get moving Longarm, you're slower than I am.. I'll cover you” he said sharply, gesturing for his partner to start climbing. The construction worker huffed but started climbing, accepting the help from the other other bots atop the rubble and scrabbling up and over onto the other side. Switchblade huffed and detached the grenade he had clipped to his waist, activating it and hefting it at the advancing mass of Decepticons. “Eat THIS” snarled the silver Autobot before he turned and ran up the rubble pile, only needing the help near the top and grabbing Bumblebee's hand, grinning a bit as the scout swung him over to the other side before jumping down himself. Switchblade's grenade went off a few nanoclicks later, earning a grin from Longarm; who gave a nod of approval._

_“Nice”_

_“Glad you thought so, it was my last one” snickered the racer and then he five Autobots continued running, dodging energon blasts and each occasionally looking back to fire off some shots in retaliation. They were making good time until a score of Eradicons blasted past them, transforming and landing in front of the fleeing Autobots. They raised their cannons and the Autobots skidded to a halt, they knew they wouldn't be able to get to the 'Cons before they got shot.. except Switchblade. The silver racer launched himself forward, wheels screeching against the ground before finding purchase and sending Switchblade hurtling forward. He had already halved the distance between him and the Eradicons before they even set their targets to him, it didn't matter though, he swiftly lurched side to side, zig-zagging to avoid the blasts and grinning roguishly as he released one of his blades; the razor sharp weapon snapping out and locking in place with a clink. Switchblade came low, bladed arm swinging up and across to slice up under it's left arm, through it's chest and coming out between it's neck and right shoulder. The racer blew past the other Eradicons, leaning backwards and pivoting on his wheeled pedes to screech to a halt and ducking as his companions opened fire on the distracted Decepticons._

_With a blindingly fast racer behind them and four other Autobots in front the Eradicons quickly got cut down or blasted away by energon fire. After the last one fell Switchblade bounced on his pedes and shook his bladed arm to flick the decepticon's energon off onto the ground._

_“Crazy footwork there racer!” laughed Cliffjumper and Switchblade smirked and gave a mocking bow_

_“Why thankees Cliff” he quipped, earning a swat upside the head by Longarm_

_“Lets go guys, we still got a couple dozen blocks to go” the construction worker said gruffly and Switchblade rolled his optics a bit, snorting and giving a mock salute_

_“Yes SIR” the silver Autobot snarked and he rolled his neck a bit before they moved off a bit, moving at a brisk pace. The grenade that Switchblade had thrown had actually toppled more rubble down onto the street, hindering the ground-based Vehicons, and making the Eradicons hold back.. obviously the strike force was ordered to stay together. At least they could slow down slightly, they were all exhausted._

_The weary group made they way down the rubble strewn streets, making their way back towards base so they could evacuate; Switchblade cycled air through his vents, looking up at the buildings they past as they walked by, he'd miss Cybertron. Then again, who wouldn't? It was home, and now it was dying, a hollow shell of it's former self. The group walked in silence for a while, and they eventually met up with a few more Autobots, they were teammates with Longarm and Switchblade, and usually fought together. The only reason why they hadn't fought together today was due to the shortage of warriors, they had to spread themselves thin in order to cover their lines. Switchblade wondered what they would do after they left Cybertron, would they focus on surviving? Looking for energon deposits? Or would they continue fighting this endless war with the Decepticons?.. He hoped not, as fun as fighting 'Cons could be, he'd lost friends; he didn't want to lose any more he thought as he looked at Longarm's back with a faint frown._

_It was quiet until they heard explosions behind them, all eight Autobots looking behind them and their optics widening in horror; the Nemesis was firing missiles into Iacon, it seemed Megatron was determinded to wipe out as many Autobots as he could before they fled the planet. One missile was going to hit about just a klik from them.. the shock wave would most likely topple buildings.. and crush them in the process._

_“Move! Move, Move, MOVE!” shouted Longarm, the other eight Autobots shaking out of their daze and scrambling to run as fast as they could to the base, and hopefully make it off the planet before any missiles happened to hit the base. Switchblade refused to rush ahead and save himself, if his friends wouldn't make it in time neither would he the racer decided. By the time the base came into view just a few blocks away their cooling fans were whirring erratically, bots stumbled and tripped, legs screaming in exhaustion as they set their sights on their goal._

_“Come on guys,we're almost there! We're going to make it!” called Switchblade with a tired smile, pulling ahead slightly and glancing back at the missile looming overhead, and noting how it had swooped up, preparing for it's final dive to strike it's target. Then he looked back at Longarm.._

_And.. everything suddenly went white, the sound of an explosion filling his audio sensors.._

~ ~ ~

 

Switchblade opened his optics with a sharp intake of air through his vents, coughing and wheezing as his fans backfired. He reached up to rub at his face, but pain from an IV in his arm made him emit a strangled whimper. The silver mech reached up slower as he felt something against the side of his head, his fingers of his left hand brushing against a cord plugged directly into his processor, and that hurt too, so much that he failed to choke back the screech of pain as he pulled it out in panic; clutching at the side of his head with right hand while his left started shakily ripping out IVs and cords, not caring what they did, or how much it hurt. He was leaking minute amounts of energon from yanking out all the cords and IVs, he ignored it however as he rolled off the berth he had been laying on; crumpling to the floor limply and crawling under a table, shaking visibly and staring around with disorientation.

With a groan he rubbed at his face, then realized he was seeing out of both optics 'but how?.. it was gone..' he thought to himself and he curled up in a ball as much as he could, quivering a bit and realizing with a shock that his welded joints weren't aching like before, he was clean, and running a quick diagnostic, all his cannibalized limbs were functioning perfectly.. much better than when he had first repaired himself.

There was also the issue with waking up on the berth, hooked up to life support and now having full energon tanks. His mind was spinning, was there still Autobots here? Was he not the only one to be left here?

 

His questions were answered when a hulking purple Decepticon entered the room, yellow cyclops-like optic focusing on the mismatched Autobot huddling under the table.

“Greetings Autobot.. Nice to see that you've finally woken up” Shockwave drawled, clasping his hands behind his back, Switchblade staring at the massive 'Con in horror.  



End file.
